Kigikuhana
by chionodoxa
Summary: 【Millefiore!Tsuna】The boy gives them a mirror. "The magic doesn't last forever," he says, "But that's alright." [status: rewriting]
1. Red Spider Lily I

**disclaimer**: I do not own Katekyoushi Hitman Reborn!. c:

**warnings**: Violence, language, OoCness, mafia, darker themes, gen, AU, parallel dimension-to-canon dimension, underground mentions, minor OCs, etc.  
><strong>summary<strong>: [Millefiore!Tsuna] chrysanthemum flower (golden-flower) / truth, righteousness, imperial, sun, respect, rebirth, sorrow, flower of November, of Asian culture...one can go on and on, but this flower will always be his title.  
><strong>chapter summary<strong>: They say all humans are born broken into the world, but they are not born shattered.

**notes**: I am so sorry for the...overload of...stuff down below. Explanation: Story title and literal translation, chapter significance (number, Japanese flower name, romaji translation), English translation and chapter title, other pseudonyms, hanakotoba and Victorian flower language meaning, and then the last lines are for you to interpret. So...Please R&R? ^^ Thank you!

* * *

><p>Kikuhana | <strong>Red Spider Lily I<strong> | Katekyoushi Hitman Reborn! © Akira Amano

* * *

><p>…<p>

{K-I-K-U-H-A-N-A}  
>~chrysanthemum flower~<p>

**chapter**: _prologue_  
>「one • 曼珠沙華 • higanbana」<br>"Red Spider Lily I"

—hurricane lily; resurrection lily; flower of death—  
><em>never to meet again. longing. lost memories. abandonment. autumn equinox.<em>  
>(blooms after heavy rain &amp; near cemeteries &amp; poisonous to animals)<p>

…

.

.

.

**T**suna is alone.

He is clumsy, they all taunt him. He isn't smart, he isn't athletic, and he can't speak without stuttering (someone is going to be mean to me, he fears, and he tries to be unnoticeable, not that it works). The people of Namimori aren't overtly cruel, but for now they judge his every word, every action.

The Sawadas are not an important part of Namimori, Japan. Nana and Iemitsu had moved into the close knit town, who had welcomed them. But the brunette was hard to get along with and the blonde man, though seemingly harmless, had strange silence and circumstances dogging his footsteps. Iemitsu was foreign, and Nana never went out to socialize, never went out more than to buy groceries and talk about her soon to be manly son and her husband that was never seen in more than short glimpses.

It was only expected, then, when rumours arose and Tsuna was watched as he entered kindergarten. Not obviously, of course, just small pieces of conversation about him and a few glances in his direction and at his mother.

Still, this made Tsuna more nervous than he was before, and the back of his mind seemed to be noting all of the looks at him. He was only five, of course, so when he tripped, no one thought little of him. Only the children snickered, and their parents soon scolded them.

Tsuna was alone, then, in the sense that no one had ever seen him before, ever met him, and he was not part of the circle the rest of them knew. He was different.

No one can blame anyone for the first impression given about Sawada Tsunayoshi as an insecure mess through his quiet words and obvious nervousness that invited the idea that he wouldn't be able to fight back. An idea that was awfully true, as he was out on the edges of the circles and had no one to encourage him to pass over the lines.

What if they're mean, the boy thought, what if they don't like me?

He had no friends. He was different. He was, found out to be later on, average in everything. Small remarks in between. Small snippets of speech heard by Tsuna. Small batterings on his fear, too little to drive him to become wary but too much that made him shrink into himself and run to his mother for comfort.

In the end, it was inevitable that the nickname Dame-Tsuna came to be.

.

.

.

This is a life of a little boy named after a king.

.

.

.

This the start. In other places, maybe he would live in another city, maybe he would be normal, maybe he would take the place of others. But mostly, this is who Sawada Tsunayoshi is, whatever his name is, whatever his appearance is, this is _Tsuna_.

This is the start of a possible hero.

There are many many brave souls born, but only a few manage to become great. This is one such soul, and though only one will be able to help everything around him or her, that does not mean the rest of them all have never had the potential.

People have fallen. People have risen. In another way, you could say that heroes are not born, and heroes are not chosen.

A hero does not exist.

Only humans do. (And humans are sinners.)

.

.

.

Another person his age falls onto him, and before Tsuna can apologize, they stand up and do so themselves, blueish eyes large and hair an unnatural dark color.

"Sorry!" she beams sincerely, a barely-there accent changing her words differently, and then she looks around at her surroundings warily, "I took my older brother's stuff, so I have to run now!" She mutters something unintelligible in another language under her breath, that Tsuna can't understand.

He smiles at her awkwardly, nodding. "I-it's alright?" Something seems wrong about her unsteady footsteps, as if she's only now seeing the sunlight, different than the rest of his classmates. But Tsuna brushes the feeling off, subdued. He's always been...what was that word? Paranoid? Mean?

She waves at him brightly as she leaves, dashing off around the corner of the quiet sidewalks. Tsuna thinks he has seen her before, but he isn't sure when. The girl is just familiar, like the way some streets are and some faces are. Nostalgic.

When? he wonders, face scrunching up into an intensely thoughtful appearance. There's colours he has always thought he has seen, from blue to red. Never yellow, Tsuna pauses as he continues on his way home, and in the way normal eight year olds would, he shrugs. This girl is orange, he smiles to himself. Unlike yellow.

Yellow is weird, he decides. And maybe, if he had been thirteen right then, maybe he'd be hit on the head with a hammer and he'd fall on his face, hearing out a not quite child's scoff at his stupidity. But for now, he was not, and no one from the dark was going to know who he is.

Not now. Never now.

.

.

.

"Tsunayoshi-kun," a voice drawls.

He turns, visibly startled, half of his mind noticing the way this girl moves, the way her eyes are falsely bright. She is wrong, he thinks subconsciously, but he doesn't understand why. This girl is like a fallen angel, almost, in how she holds herself.

With a shaken smile, he stammers out a hello back, the end of his statement rising into an unwilling question. "H-how do you know my name...?" Tsuna can't take a step back, because he knows, somehow, that she will understand he is trying to flee.

Right now, she already seems to _know_. (run getawaygE_T AWAY_) Her eyes are deceptively bright, a darker shade than mauve, as they pin him in his place.

The girl ignores him with a well practiced glance to the side, licking her fingers as she finishes off the last traces of whatever she has been eating. "Why, Dame-Tsuna," she says, not mockingly (as if it was a fact) but disinterestedly, "You do have a reputation around here, so don't be so surprised."

She tilts her head at him.

"I want you to see, really," she laughs, "that you're not the one I was looking for, but the one I will watch anyways. You might be the one, but I don't believe you are the other one I wanted to meet. You might, but," here her lips curl up into a smirk, "you're not enough."

Tsuna watches her fade into the air, and he blinks once, twice, in the slightest fear.

She is another ghost among many that has always, without fail, managed to meet him in every lifetime he has.

(He isn't enough. He isn't ever going to be able to be enough here.)

.

.

.

Nana calls for her son. He appears a few moments later, half awake, and aiming a curious question to her in his daze.

She giggles. "Tsu-kun, your father invited us over to meet his boss!"

That is all this Tsuna will remember when he goes.

.

.

.

He opens his eyes. The airplane's engine hasn't calmed down, and his ears are still incapable of clear hearing, but the loud announcement of their landing at least calms him.

To be in the sky unnerves him, makes him feel absolutely vulnerable, as if he can be easily found and shot down in the dark.

The world starts spinning, and Tsuna's eyes widen in confusion. His mother mimics him.

Everything _burns_.

Has he ever known that fire can be cold? Freezing him in place?

.

.

.

(He's late again.

The boy sighs to himself. It was a promising desire, to prove...one that was harder to bruise, too, in comparison to every other Tsunayoshi. Every other one either was too bright to live or too dark to not.

And, he's late for this one. Again. Always late for this boy, sometimes girl, who is many things to him.

_—gaze narrowed in hatred—yesnowhy—green and yellow—strawberries and marshmallows—whispers of hey—orangeorangebrown—do you like—i will not forgive you—too deceiving—who are—_

—_HE IS **LATE**_. He breathes in harshly as the new thoughts appear, burying themselves into the many many other thoughts he knows.

The boy smiles. It will be okay. He will find another.

Molten orange eyes, half lidded, close as the boy _jumps_.

...

"Will you prove your resolve to me?"

And the city at dawn burns alive in scarlet shades of screaming. The flickering lights eventually all fall asleep.

Good. You're enough.

_But you aren't_—

—_I'm_ okay. I'm alright.

The boy looks at the crimson shadows cast upon the gravestones, solemn eyes dark with memory of many other gravestones, voices and shouts running through his mind.

"Hello, okaa-san, otou-san," he begins, but they are only one in many, and his heart does not beat.)

.

.

.

...This is a life of a clueless little boy born to sin.

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* * *

><p>*King is not the correct term, but it has more impact with a Western oriented language. The correct term is shogun, who was the head of government and military power. And, more specifically, the Tokugawa shogunate's fifth shogun is who Tsuna's named after.<p>

**endnotes**: This is mostly rushed, since I wanted to upload this on November on either side of the Prime Meridian and so I cut this off where it is now. I'm not very familiar with Katekyo Hitman Reborn! anymore, so there might be mistakes. Thank you for reading this~! ^^ I'm sorry if it was confusing.  
><strong>question<strong>: Who is the girl? Either one is fine. Random guesses are okay! I'm just curious how obvious I made them.


	2. Red Spider Lily II

**disclaimer**: I do not own Katekyoushi Hitman Reborn!. c:

**warnings**: Violence, language, OoCness, mafia, darker themes, gen, AU, parallel dimension-to-canon dimension, underground mentions, minor OCs, etc.  
><strong>summary<strong>: [Millefiore!Tsuna] chrysanthemum flower (golden-flower) / truth, righteousness, imperial, sun, respect, rebirth, sorrow, flower of November, of Asian culture...one can go on and on, but this flower will always be his title.  
><strong>chapter summary<strong>: How long will the ending go? Only questions in his head. Only ever questions.

**notes**: I hope this is okay! Please R&R? :) Also, I edited chapter one a while ago, so you can go back to look if you want to.

* * *

><p>Kikuhana | <strong>Red Spider Lily II<strong> | Katekyoushi Hitman Reborn! © Akira Amano

* * *

><p>…<p>

{K-I-K-U-H-A-N-A}  
>~chrysanthemum flower~<p>

**chapter**: _prologue_  
>「two • 曼珠沙華 • higanbana」<br>"Red Spider Lily II"

—hurricane lily; resurrection lily; flower of death—  
><em>never to meet again. longing. lost memories. abandonment. autumn equinox.<em>  
>(blooms after heavy rain &amp; near cemeteries &amp; poisonous to animals)<p>

…

.

.

.

**T**his is hellfire.

He can't close his eyes. He can't move at all. The burning is ice, and the fire is a shifting color of blue. There are people falling into ashes, into bone, unable to scream. The quiet is panic-inducing, but no one can do a thing. They're all like statues. Molded into fiery stone poses, smoke in the air as they are set on fire and leave with an unsettling scent of musky smoke.

Tsuna _can't close his eyes_. He _can't pretend that this is another dream_. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't.

(_Oh god, god, god, his feet, his hands, oh my god what is this whatisthis _—)

No one will help him here. He is alone. He is not a superhero or a prince who will defeat an enemy. He cannot control water, nor fire, nor anything else that is magical.

What would it be like to have a power to fight back? he wonders.

It's a shame he doesn't believe he does.

What have I to live for? he asks himself. It is the same question repeated infinitesimally across many other selves.

Sawada Tsunayoshi is only ten when he goes into eternal sleep.

.

.

.

In a while, a few moments more, the blue fire seems to disappear, and an adult surveys the scene before him, half interested. "These ashes are warm, hmmm?" he laughs to himself as he chews on a sweet. The smoke escapes quickly through the opening he has created absentmindedly, and the man tilts his head sideways to see if he can differentiate anything.

"Better leave before the mafia is after me," he thinks out loud with dark amusement. "Too bad he couldn't pass. It would be fun..."

He throws behind him a dark blue rose with small sharp thorns, unafraid, as he steps out to see a dark hole in front of him.

"Oooh, fast," he grins, before he— somehow —disappears.

Last words are left behind. No one will hear them. Last words for only his pleasure.

"Too bad no one's enough."

.

.

.

The sky is a dark blue, and for a moment he takes it all in. The stars, the moon, the invisible wall separating him from the outside. His head rests on his palm, and the teenager just pouts as he observes his thoughts. "That Federico is annoying~!" he drawls out, leaning back. "He'll have to go..."

Humming, he shrugs. "Still more with too much...what a painnn...some of my selves are scary, but they're mostly done with...can't do much about the infants, or the Vindice, but still..."

He smiles.

"_Too easy_."

"...perhaps someone to let me play?" Tsuna's smile widens, gleeful, and his eyes are blue-purple.

.

.

.

The boy ("Little boy blue...will you wake him? Oh no, not I, for if I do, he will surely cry..." his mother hums to him...dear red mother...) smiles resignedly at the other next to him. Then he laughs with a subdued kind of mourning, silent tears out of place on his serene, happy expression.

Tsuna worriedly looks at him, reaching a hand out tentatively, slowly. "...Mukuro?"

He bitterly stares into Tsuna's eyes, into his Lightning Gesso Guardian's soul, smile falling as the boy sits stiff as a statue, looking out the (_bulletproof_) window. No sharp objects are permitted inside this room. Nothing dangerous is allowed inside, after _ that_. Mukuro's sky flames waver, but others stay strong inside him, keeping him alive like a prisoner. Mukuro is so very trapped. (Hates it hates it let me out let me out letmeoutlet_mego_...!)

"Let me be good-for-nothing, Tsunayoshi?" he whispers to the blonde, "Just one more time?"

Tsuna nods, subdued, a kind of fear in his heart as Mukuro— Mukuro closes his eyes. Mukuro who was always so much stronger than him, so much better. He does not run away. He does not hide. He accepts all, like he always does. He accepts all. (But himself always that-why-won't-you-save-yourself).

His eyes are shadowed, when his friend falls asleep, when he leaves him alone where he stands. Quiet and peaceful and accepting, eyes open and like glass, like normal, but _his heart is gone_.

(stopping falters— pushing pushing pushed by white clad angels— shouts and murmurs— pain— ever lost ever gone please _don't but_...I can't...)

"Mafia...still here but no_no_...I _hate it I hate this don't le_..."

His voice stops, a horrifying sound coming from it, like he's dying himself. He can't breathe.

On his knees, Tsuna does not cry, but the ground has fallen from his feet and he _is dropping downwards into nothing at_ _all_.

.

.

.

Shaky words. "You're..."

She blinked a lot, and opened her not responding mouth again, desperate, a burning in her eyes, "I, I, I..." Her throat felt impossibly tight, like she was being strangled, and she _couldn't swallow down that tightness_, that _unrelenting pressure_.

Her heartbeat went ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump like it always did.

The sun is out. Sunshine leaves it's imprint onto the desk in front of her, dust twirling in it's spotlight, and a mirthless smirk curves up the man's lips. Too perfect, this scene. The sun is out. Tsuna is not surprised. She has always been one for truth (after after after all—) and delusions only make her hurt so much more. Tsuna, really, hates pain.

"...I." Her voice gets caught again. She can't continue.

"Not so nice," Byakuran repeated gently. "Not so nice."

Tsuna closed her eyes, because he could hear the fires in his head, the fires and the words and his hand around Yuni's neck.

Then a quiet murmur, loud and awful in Byakuran's ears. He knows what she has said, even though she is at the oaken door so far away yet so close to him (he can just **touch that pale**). He knows, subconsciously, has always known that he's a liar and yet now she's a liar too. How funny. He hears her question as if she was breathing that into his ear (like what was happening over where the rainbow...).

"Have you ever..."

The white haired man smiles darkly, "Won't you run, _my love_? Tag isn't fun if you don't~!" He can feel himself drowning in a million other 'me's, a million thousand hundred ten of them, more and more, choking and suffocating.

She reaches out a hand towards him, "...you don't have to lie," she repeats.

He is a liar but she is a liar too and then he stands up and she smiles and no but then thunder and she falls down as if she's only going for a moment.

Only-for-a-moment. "...na...-chan?" a voice, a thousand trillion different pitches and tones and feelings mixed in. A thousand trillion different names trying to be said at the same time.

He laughs but it's not _him_ and it's always too _late_ when you are part of the _darkness_ even if that part is _more_ than a thousand trillion light years away.

.

.

.

Hello.

My name is:

.

.

.

Once upon a time...this is how he will begin his story for it is not a story at all but a legend. Yes. That is how it will start. Far far away...

What is a father, he has to say. What is a father. A mother is the cold, stern, unforgiving person behind closed doors and writing in her blood his destiny. He knows that. A father is, he likes to think, someone who would give him flowers like the storybooks said, to show him love.

He wouldn't, something tells him. He ignores it.

Flowers for his "heart". Nice flowers too, he smiles to himself, beautiful ones that won't die so easily. He asks his mother sometimes, about what the heart is. She, once, told him that it gave him blood. His dark eyes lit up, back then, and her eyes immediately lidded in shame at his openness. She had hit him. That is what she is supposed to do. Love him.

Bloody flowers, he supposes. He hopes he will get them. A thousand, like that story about a thousand paper cranes and that girl who wished upon them. Yes, like those cranes. Thousands. More than a thousand, a hundred thousands! What is a hundred thousands, he asks the men and women around the house.

Just that, they say, but then he pouts and complains and they relent, unless they lose their occupation, "A...fancy name above it is a million," they say.

They always say. There is no emotion in their words at all. It gets boring, Byakuran laments, as he browses through different books and anime and manga with a feverish intrigue. A million flowers, though! he talks to himself happily. He can only talk to himself. A million bloody flowers! My heart won't fail!

He is but a child. Then, he did not know what those encouragements were for. He did not know anything, as he is a child born in a shadow.

Flowers do not bloom in shadow. They only bloom in light. Perhaps that is why he loved them so much.

He brought them all down with him, for a happily ever after in burgundy paint.

.

.

.

This Tsuna has prettily coloured eyes, they might note.

Burning in jealousy, they darken it:

down

down

...

down.

Always down and never up.

Humans always want to be better, hmmm?

Sawada Tsunayoshi is special in some places.

In every single one he or she falls.

Unsurprisingly, Yuni sighs.

She spins a ring around her finger, contemplative.

"Who...?"

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.

.

Three around a long, long table. One to one side. Two to the other. Always so.

("..._sighs. Who to_...?")

Three up a long, long staircase. Next to each other. One with the other. Always so.

("..._ow many have we broken in the end...quite a lot...ghing hysterically li_...")

There's a feeling between the balance of the universe. Indescribable.

("..._n he_ar it.")

.

.

.

"_Is there any hope left in me...?_"

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* * *

><p>*<span>Hint<span>: There are many differences in every alternate dimension. This can include personality, appearance, age, gender, name, etc. etc. To make things easier, however, I made everyone written about in this story with their usual names and _similar _appearance.  
>*The name is meant to be blank. It is not a mistake.<p>

**endnotes**: So how was it? It's probably very confusing, so I'm sorry for that, and for the wait. The last part is also a connection to another plot I thought up and might publish when I can, whose tentative overview is in my summary notes if you want to check. Please tell me what you think? Thank you, again, for reading! ^^ **  
><strong>


	3. Red Spider Lily III

**disclaimer**: I do not own Katekyoushi Hitman Reborn!. c:

**warnings**: Violence, language, OoCness, mafia, darker themes, gen, AU, parallel dimension-to-canon dimension, underground mentions, minor OCs, etc.  
><strong>summary<strong>: [Millefiore!Tsuna] chrysanthemum flower (golden-flower) / truth, righteousness, imperial, sun, respect, rebirth, sorrow, flower of November, of Asian culture...one can go on and on, but this flower will always be his title.  
><strong>chapter summary<strong>: The kings and queens wait, humming, curious, about the one who insists they will be the best. They are all the best; what a fool, they say.

**notes**: Here's the next chapter; please R&R, and I hope you'll like it! I'm really really really sorry for taking so long. Happy Christmas~! ^^

* * *

><p>Kikuhana | <strong>Red Spider Lily III<strong> | Katekyoushi Hitman Reborn! © Akira Amano

* * *

><p>…<p>

{K-I-K-U-H-A-N-A}  
>~chrysanthemum flower~<p>

**chapter**: _prologue_  
>「two • 曼珠沙華 • higanbana」<br>"Red Spider Lily III"

—hurricane lily; resurrection lily; flower of death—  
><em>never to meet again. longing. lost memories. abandonment. autumn equinox.<em>  
>(blooms after heavy rain &amp; near cemeteries &amp; poisonous to animals)<p>

…

.

.

.

**T**he smell of sugar and cream quieted his protests as the hands concisely poured a little (excessive amounts, the man lamented) of the warm goodness into the dark pitch black liquid of evil bitterness. The man in front of him just directed a deadpan look and _nicely_ set it before Tsuna.

He frowned, again. "What has the table ever done to you," he exhaled sadly, rubbing at the spot with his sleeve as he pushed the cup away, "It used to be such a pretty nice mahogany tree that was cut down to sustain all of your spills and hits and abuse, and really why wo—"

Reborn unceremoniously turned the whole entire thing upside down into the brunet's mouth, in which said brunet spit mostly everything out in one magnificent display of hot expensive coffee droplets.

"_What_," Tsuna spat while drinking ice water with the desperation of a little boy with a burnt tongue. His concentrated angry glare at the nonchalant baby before him, however, was ineffective.

The hitman smirked, "Stop being such a drama queen."

"Well, not everyone is as naturally sadistic as you so as they can live with swallowing plain black coffee!" Tsuna protested. He shook the blue colored pacifier around his neck unconsciously as he threw his hands up into the air.

Reborn eyed the innocent looking empty sugar and cream packets with disdain. "...Right." _Sugar addict_.

Tsuna covered his face with his hands, "Really," he muttered, with absolutely no conviction or belief in his own words. "Mmhmm." _...Can't win._

"But anyways!" The infant's head shot up and he beamed, hands moving to cup his face in which two shiny sparkling orbs rested, "Xanxus is coming, right?"

The answering explosion echoing approximately five seconds later in the tense silence and the baby's sudden smug smirk was all Tsuna needed to nod and pick up his somehow-refilled water and sip as the door slammed open with voices shouting over each other.

"I feel happy," Tsuna informed Reborn, "That I made sure we were the only ones in this place and that all charges are to be taken from Iemitsu's account." Reborn gave him a look that plaintively said you're-as-sadistic-as-I-am. Tsuna answered with a I-never-said-I-wasn't smile. Their gazes locked into an intense staring contest with Reborn's blank gaze and Tsuna's cheerful one.

Xanxus saw the two and scowled. Both turned at the same time to blink at him. "Hello Xanxus," Tsuna announced with a grin. The outraged complaint of Leviathan was ignored as always, since most had gotten over and merely accepted that they would always be referred to by their first names (it also had the benefit of confusing the Japanese Vongola on whether or not the Italian Vongola members were insulting them or not, Tsuna noted to himself. Reborn didn't bother to give him a dry look at that statement).

The resulting chaos and pandemonium beginning with an offhand remark on how coffee with no supplements tasted awful and Tsuna's smug look towards Reborn was the reason why, in the end, steady yellow and blue glows flickered and then faded away.

.

.

.

The moment he awoke Tsuna noted that the flame pressure was surprisingly empty. He opened his eyes, slow in his movements, and stared blankly at all of the other people that looked very similar to him. He blinked, multiple times. The voices all mixed together, incoherent, all of the words spoken in the same voice.

"Um. What." He managed to get out, haltingly. The words were buried under all of the others' noise. "Oh why is it always me," he continued, mentally burying his face into his palms. Cracks lengthened around the countless lookalikes, and he inspected them with a rising sense of wariness, eyes not daring to blink. "If only G was here," he began, before his expression flattened and he ignored those five words.

No, he would insult-compliment-interrogate everything.

"What," he repeated underneath his breath, sounding calm but panicking inside of his head. "...are...we?"

The explosion of fire did not allow any more pondering.

.

.

.

The footsteps created ripples on the water's surface, no matter how silent they were, she noted with a small sigh. The world seemed to coalesce into a shadow, and with her head bowed and one green eye lidded, she made a tsk sound with her tongue.

"How long?" she questioned the other in the mindscape. They stayed quiet, unrelenting.

Her indigo colored eye closed in a dramatic show of annoyance. "It's only for a few weeks. Then you'll disappear underneath your own paradoxical existence."

The white haired spirit didn't answer.

"Byakuran-san. Estraneo will change you even if you're a billion dimensions away."

Half of her lips curled into a bitter smile. "Why, Nagi-kun, I'm to go to my soul brother. Simple, ne?"

The other half lifted. "Aa. That seems...quite...fun." _Aren't you such a fool_. _Who will save you_.

(Green faded away into dark.)

.

.

.

Mukuro rested his head on his hand, frowning. Tenth Mist Guardian of the Vongola wasn't bad, necessarily. It was a position of prestige. His eyes trailed over to the flailing blond and his frown only deepened.

"Once," he finally said. Tsuna turned to him, blinking tears out of his eyes with a panicked look of _oh-god-the-guy-who-tried-to-kill-me-and-my-friends-is-speaking-to-me_. "Once, I was you."

The brown eyes did not comprehend. Mukuro didn't understand why he was so disappointed.

His head turned away from Vongola Decimo.

.

.

.

Tsuna smiled. "Being a king of a world is boring. How are the others, Yuni-kun?"

The green haired male standing beside him rolled his eyes. "Some of them are planning a take-over," she stated blandly. "The Tri-Ni-Sette are needed."

("I knew that," he whispered.)

It was so very loud in the small secret room.

.

.

.

Yamamoto Takeshi smiled listlessly at his username being at the top of the lists (the same smile permanently on his face), the screen way too bright in his unlit room. The technology worked furiously around him, and he pushed up his glasses as they fell down the bridge of his nose again.

"Games are so _taikutsuna_."

There are no stars in China. But Takeshi always, always looked up into the night sky, and hoped—

...

He shouldn't. Mother died.

.

.

.

Out of a countless number of words and sayings, have you heard of "MAGIC"?

With this opening this story starts:

"**ONCE UPON A TIME, THERE WAS A WORLD CALLED [**SEN-NO-BA-RA**]**."

_Would you believe that _"MAGIC"_ was never even a thought in their minds_?

[**SEN-NO-BARA**] did not know their "MAGIC".

They had no desire.

_("...Am I a liar_?")

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><p><strong>endnotes<strong>: Ummm, sorry for the wait. I'm not very consistent, and I am such a procrastinator. Everything is probably forced and I'm so sorryyy. (...one more part of the "red spider lily" arc left to go glances awkwardly away cough four parts cough four is the Asian number of death cough cough cough.) Please review? Thank you! :) (This might as well also be an arc where I move everywhere to ready the Millefiore. Mostly because I didn't like how glorious Byakuran was made out to be and then Tsuna just defeated him pretty easily later on.) _There will be edits made later_!  
><strong>question<strong>: For the ending, it can go three ways. Green, Yellow, or Orange? This question will be up until the arc before the climax.


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